


nothing higher than itself

by sabinelagrande



Series: two flints [2]
Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Established Relationship, Introspection, Jealousy, M/M, Marathon Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22812046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: Greg is trying to have a nice afternoon, and the Taskmaster gets interrupted.
Relationships: Greg Davies/Alex Horne
Series: two flints [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639948
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59





	nothing higher than itself

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a series now, and it is still wildly historically inaccurate. It's just that I still don't care.

There's downtime, when you're a criminal. There's not loads of it, but it doesn't make for a full workweek. Loads of criminals have other jobs, things they do during the day to keep them paid, with money they will no doubt burn in the course of their criminal endeavors. Greg and his closest lieutenants are out of this particular category; he doesn't police their time, but he spends most of his at the House, conferring with Alex or working out what to demand from who to get what he wants.

But this afternoon, nothing is happening. He has plans in motion, debts to collect on, but the timing just isn't right. Dave and Tim are playing cards and trying to out-cheat each other; Rhod and Roisin are talking about something in low voices that Greg is probably not going to want to hear about.

Greg stands up from his throne, tapping Alex on the shoulder and walking away to his room. He can think of something better to do with his time.

A few minutes later they're in bed. Alex is laying with his ass at the edge of it, Greg standing in between his legs. Greg has his hands around Alex's wrists, pinning him to the bed, but Alex doesn't want to go anywhere. Greg is fucking him slowly, just rolling his hips, and Alex has his head thrown back, sighing as Greg takes him.

There's a knock on the door, and Greg groans in annoyance. "Oh, fuck off," he calls.

"If you won't listen, I'm opening the door," Roisin says.

"Dammit, Roisin, you know what I'm doing in here," Greg says, straightening up and turning his head towards the door.

"Everybody does," she says nonchalantly. "Acaster is here."

"Who gives a fuck?" Greg says.

"Says he's got news," Roisin says, in a tone that suggests she doesn't believe it.

"His news can damn well wait until I'm finished," Greg says. "If he doesn't stick around, must not have been important."

"I know where this is going," Alex says, when Greg turns back.

Greg kisses the inside of his knee before pinning his wrists again. "Oh, I think you do," he says. "If Acaster thinks he can wait, I'll give him a wait."

He moves even slower, pushing in with deep, lingering thrusts that leave Alex gasping. "This isn't going to end well for me," Alex says.

"Quite the opposite," Greg says. "It's going to end very well for you. It's just going to be forever getting there."

It's usually hard and fast between the two of them, but Greg doesn't think he's ever fucked anybody for longer in his whole life. His back hurts and he's dripping sweat, but he doesn't let that stop him. Alex takes all of it, arching off the bed, pushing back against Greg as he drives in, taking his sweet goddamn time about it. He never really takes the time to appreciate Alex, but he's appreciating him thoroughly now, every inch of him.

The spite in it only makes it more delicious.

He absolutely turns Alex into a begging, wretched, heap of a man. His cock is so hard that it's flushed, and Greg barely even gets a hand around it before Alex comes, groaning so loudly that people outside the door most definitely hear it. Greg tries to keep going and can't, emptying himself into Alex with an enormously satisfied sigh.

"Jesus Christ," Greg says.

"I'll never walk again," Alex says.

"Worth it?" Greg says.

"Worth it," Alex says.

There's water in the basin, thank God, so they both wash up. Greg bends down and gives him a kiss after they've gotten dressed, his hand cupping the back of Alex's head.

"You first," he says, indicating the door.

After Alex has gone, Greg stretches out, cracking his back, and straightens his clothing. That stopped being about delay tactics quite some time ago, but it's time to go out and put the Taskmaster back on.

His assistant is standing outside the room when Greg steps out, and he doesn't even have to look at Alex's face to know what he looks like. He looks guilty and ashamed, in this way that Alex can really sell but Greg finds kind of sickening, like he's been used and is embarrassed about it. Nobody in the gang buys it anymore; only Rhod, Roisin, and Tim really know the nature of Alex's involvement, but all of them are clear by this point that Alex is a willing participant in whatever weird thing he and Greg have going on. They don't even call him the assistant. He gets to be Alex, who is in an odd relationship with the Taskmaster that nobody really wants to know more about. The Taskmaster finds it funny when people mess with him, but not in a dissimilar way to how it amuses him when people set Iain off on purpose.

It's not the same for the Taskmaster and his assistant. The outside world needs to think his assistant is nothing, just a pet he doesn't particularly care for, a dog you would kick. Greg is playacting because both of them get off on it, even though some of the stuff he does to Alex is pretty rough. The Taskmaster is completely serious, and that includes doing whatever he wants to his assistant's body. What Greg doesn't like about it is the implication that he could do that to someone. He couldn't. It makes him feel ill that anyone would mistake him for the kind of person who could. 

Apparently the Taskmaster can, but the Taskmaster is a monster anyway.

But right now, he doesn't like how it makes Acaster look at Alex. Acaster loathes him, to the point where it looks like he's going to leap over and hit him. Greg can't stand that, and luckily, the Taskmaster is, despite everything, protective of his things.

Greg kind of wants to puff up and snarl, but instead the Taskmaster puts a hand on his assistant's shoulder, staring Acaster down. Acaster relents, because of course he does. He's an idiot, but he knows better, especially because he's probably here to suck up to the Taskmaster.

The Taskmaster lets go of his assistant, who follows him as he walks to his throne. He waits for the Taskmaster to sit before taking his own seat.

"Acaster," the Taskmaster says. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," Acaster says, which the Taskmaster knows to be a lie. "Came with some information."

"What do you think you're going to be able to demand in order to give it to me?" the Taskmaster asks.

Acaster doesn't say anything, and Greg is surprised at how cannily he's taking in the situation. "It's a present," Acaster says. "Just goodwill. No need to make a fuss."

"Then go ahead," the Taskmaster says, waving a hand.

"It's about the Chairwoman," Acaster says, and the Taskmaster raises an eyebrow.

"I'm listening," the Taskmaster says. He's known or known of Liza for ages; he doesn't really keep tabs on her, because their aims are completely different. Her gang primarily pulls confidence scams and smashes things up. Liza has no interest in power, because she is, essentially, more interested in anarchy than wealth.

"The word is, right," Acaster says, leaning in. "The word is, they're getting into politics. Backing one of _those_ women, always going on about the vote. I heard she got kicked out by the Kensington girls for being too loud, and now Bea's her pet bodyguard."

"And this interests me how?" the Taskmaster says. 

It's a test, because Greg knows how it interests him. It's interesting to him because that means a whole different kind of pressure; the police have never liked Liza's crew because they're a pack of rowdy women. If they're a pack of rowdy women and they want political change, that makes them a different kind of threat. It's unlikely to blow back on the Taskmaster at all, but Acaster was right to bring it to him. He needs to see all the pieces if he's going to play the game.

On the other hand, Acaster just thought he could barge in here and demand an audience while Greg was in the middle of something far more interesting. Acaster could have fucking written this down and left it, and it would have been perfectly fine.

"Y'know," Acaster says. "Just thought you would like to know, is all."

"Right," the Taskmaster says, because that was the wrong answer. Acaster just came to suck up, and the Taskmaster has no time for it. "I'll take it under advisement."

"You could give me something," Acaster says indignantly. "I came all the way here to help you out."

"What you really want is for me to take you on," the Taskmaster says. "You thought you could come in here with any old thing you scraped up and I'd fall all over myself thanking you. Now you're getting angry because I caught you, and I have enough people who explode at the drop of a hat."

"Hey," Ed protests from the corner.

"I was talking about Iain," the Taskmaster says. He points a finger at his assistant, then at the curtain that hangs over the hallway leading into Sally's. "See him out," he says.

His assistant stands up, herding Acaster out. Once the curtain is opened and shuts again, the Taskmaster raises a finger to his lips and looks around the room. He walks over, pulling back the curtain just slightly, because he suspects this is not going to end with Acaster going quietly.

He's right. Alex is walking behind Acaster, not letting him turn back, and Acaster rounds on him suddenly. He throws a haymaker at Alex, and Greg can't even shout out before Alex ducks underneath it and drives Acaster away. Acaster slams into the wall, only barely stopping himself from hitting his head, which at that force might have knocked him out. Alex pops up and gets a hand around his throat, holding him there; Acaster scrabbles at his fingers, but Alex doesn't let up. In his joking about it, Greg forgets that Alex actually is a tall man, and he's looking down at Acaster, staring him dead in the eyes.

"I'm going to say this once," Alex says, his face a cold mask. "If you ever lay a hand on me, I will have you dismembered. If you beg me for it to your last breath, I'll do you the kindness of having you killed first. Your body will be fed to hogs, and no one will ever dare to ask about you again. Absolutely no one raises a hand to me and gets away with it, whether the Taskmaster sees it or not."

"Calm down," Acaster gasps. "I was just playing around."

"You really weren't," Alex says.

"What if I tell people about what you just said?" Acaster challenges. "What if I blow your cover?"

Alex laughs. "There are people I've known for five years who wouldn't believe you. You'd just be the person who was so weak they couldn't even take down the Taskmaster's assistant." He tightens his hand. "Now, are you going to be good, or am I going to have to throttle you right here?"

"I'll be good," Acaster says weakly.

Alex releases him, and Acaster gasps for breath. "Glad we had this talk," he says, and he walks away.

Greg is turned on and baffled by it.

Acaster staggers away; Greg knows he's too damn stupid not to try to tell people the big secret of the Taskmaster's assistant. He also knows that Alex was right: there are people in his own gang who don't know Alex is capable of that. _Rhod_ doesn't know Alex is capable of that, something Greg has deliberately kept from him.

"I know you're there," Alex says, not looking to where Greg is standing.

"I'm hard to miss," Greg says, lifting the curtain and ducking into the hallway. "Acaster only missed me because he was focused on you."

Alex takes a breath, letting it out slowly. "He's dangerous," he says. "I don't like loose ends."

"I am not going to let you have Acaster killed," Greg says. "Unless, you know, that whole thing you just said." Alex looks unhappy. "We're not going to kill everyone who doesn't like you."

"People aren't supposed to like me," Alex says. "He just-" He takes another deliberate breath.

"He wants your spot," Greg says, as it suddenly occurs to him. "You think he's sucking up this much because he wants more than a place in the organization."

"Yes," Alex admits, and he looks vulnerable, somehow, something that's not really like him.

"Good fucking luck," Greg says, but Alex doesn't look relieved.

Alex gets weird sometimes about physical contact. He doesn't mind if the Taskmaster touches him, because that's the Taskmaster, but sometimes he holds himself apart from Greg. This time, Greg just decides to test his luck; he pulls Alex into his arms, resting his chin on the top of Alex's head.

"How's he gonna replace the brains of the operation?" Greg says. "This is all yours. He'd be better off trying to get my job instead."

"He'd be an awful Taskmaster," Alex says. "No presence at all."

"I don't disagree," Greg says. "Look, if there's a way to make him useful, we should take it. But if he ever comes in here and disrespects you again, I'm going to take him out back and beat the shit out of him."

"Thanks," Alex says, another thing Greg doesn't hear from him much. He lets out a long sigh. "Back to it, I think."

Greg kisses him, spending his time on it, trying to prove his point. "Yeah," he says, when they part. "Almost sundown. The boys should be showing up soon."

"Maybe we'll find something to do," Alex says.

"We did do something, before we were rudely interrupted," Greg says.

"And after, as I recall," Alex says, and Greg grins.

The Taskmaster lifts the curtain, ushering Alex back into their den. Night is falling, and things finally pick up, plates to spin, arrangements to be made. The Taskmaster keeps Alex at his side through it, because that's where he goes; him, and no one else.


End file.
